


Sparring Steward Swings at Struggling Sorcerer

by Jathis



Series: The Steward and the Sorcerer [65]
Category: Sofia the First (Cartoon)
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Swords, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28777062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jathis/pseuds/Jathis
Summary: Baileywick insists that Cedric needs to know how to fight with a sword and not just his magic.
Relationships: Baileywick/Cedric the Sorcerer
Series: The Steward and the Sorcerer [65]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2091021
Kudos: 3





	Sparring Steward Swings at Struggling Sorcerer

Cedric took off his robe once he stepped into the room, tossing it absently to the side. The robe went straight to where some hooks were, hanging itself up in a neatness Cedric seemed to have no ability to understand. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted as he walked up to the figure waiting for him in the middle of the room. “Why do I have to do this?” he demanded.

Baileywick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The steward had removed his own coat, leaving himself in his vest, shirt, and pants. “Cedric, we’ve been over this. You need to learn how to defend yourself.”

“I’m a sorcerer! I already know how to defend myself!”

“And if something happens to your wand? If you find yourself unable to use your hands or mouth? What will you do then? Pout until your enemy lets you go?” Baileywick asked.

“Well I am very handsome so maybe I could…”

“Focus,” Baileywick instructed. He walked over to a rack of wooden practice weapons and took two swords. “These have been balanced to feel like holding a true sword,” he said as he gave one to Cedric. “Just without the killing part.”

Cedric took the sword, huffing in surprise at the weight. “Why is it so heavy?!”

“They’re made for killing people, Cedric. They’re supposed to have weight behind them to cut through flesh,” Baileywick explained. He reached out to help Cedric with his grip and hand placement. “Like this.”

“This is horrible,” Cedric muttered.

“It’s a weapon. They’re not meant to be nice.” Cedric blushed at his bluntness. “Come, you need to build up strength swinging it before we can do anything else.”

“That shouldn't be too hard,” Cedric said. He looked at Baileywick with a raised eyebrow. “Right?”

***

The steward forced the sorcerer to practice hand placement and swinging the sword without hitting anything for two weeks. Cedric’s arms burned and ached and he whined that he would be unable to perform his duties as sorcerer. Slowly the pain went away and Cedric found himself able to hold the sword without Baileywick fixing his grip.

It took three weeks to practice actually hitting things with the sword. The first time Cedric made contact with the training dummy he had screamed, dropping the sword as he shook his hands.

“That hurt! Why did it hurt me?!” he cried.

“You’ll get used to it,” Baileywick promised.

“Will I?!”

The steward nodded, giving him back the sword. “Again,” he said. “We’re lucky you wear gloves or else we would also have to worry about blisters.”

“Blisters?!” Stanley yelped.

“Keep swinging,” Baileywick said, ignoring the look on the other’s face.

***

“You’re cheating. I don’t know how but I know you’re cheating!” Stanley glared at Baileywick as he struggled to catch his breath. The steward strolled around the border of the sparring area, idly twirling his sword. “Stop cheating!”

“Cedric, it’s called having stamina stronger than a fly,” Baileywick said.

“It’s called being the biggest cheater in Enchancia!” Cedric countered.

Baileywick gave him a look over the rim of his glasses. “I’m going to charge. Get ready for it.” He waited until the sorcerer had gotten into a defensive stance before lunging forward. He danced around as Cedric swung his sword, poking him whenever he left himself open. “Dead. Dead. Very dead. Crippled. Dead. Bleed out.”

Cedric grunted in frustration and swung blindly at the other. Before he knew it, he was on his back, both swords pressed to his chest. “What..?”

“Dead,” Baileywick said, poking the end of Cedric’s nose.

“How..?”

“When you lose patience you lose focus. When that happens you’re dead. All I had to do was sweep your legs and I had you on your back.” He helped Cedric up onto his feet, smiling sadly at him. “I know you can do this. Be patient. Wait for the opening and take it.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“We’ll see.”

***

Several months passed and Baileywick continued to train Cedric on the use of a sword. Progress was made and progress was lost, just like anything in life. The one constant was Baileywick refused to let the sorcerer give up. Cedric would see this through. 

Cedric’s strength in his arms and hands slowly built up and he was rather proud of himself. He was able to demonstrate this outside of the training room by opening several jars that used to stump him. Baileywick just laughed and clapped, praising the younger man for accomplishing the harrowing task.

When it was time for his final sparring session, Cedric frowned to find Greylock, Roland, and Miranda sitting off to the side. “What are you three doing here?” he asked.

“We came to watch your last day of training,” Roland said.

“For support,” Miranda added.

“I’m here to laugh if the old man knocks you on your arse,” Greylock said with a crooked smile.

Cedric snorted and turned to Roland. “Is it too late to send him back to Rudistan?”

“Apparently,” Roland laughed.

“I’ve already taken root,” Greylock proudly said, tipping his hat back. “I’m like a stubborn weed!”

“A burnt weed,” Cedric huffed.

“Yes, but still very handsome when compared to your awkward face.”

“To a blind person perhaps,” Cedric countered.

“You’re just mad because you never found a bird with a beak like yours to make eggs with.”

“Well you..!”

Enchancia’s royal sorcerer and Rudistan’s former royal sorcerer continued to trade insults with each other. Miranda looked at Roland but the king just smiled and shrugged. It was clear that there were no thorns to their words, just old classmates interacting as old classmates usually did.

Baileywick cleared his throat loudly to get Cedric’s attention. He stood in the middle of the training area, an eyebrow raised as he gave the other an unamused look. “Are you done?” he asked.

“Almost,” Cedric said. He turned to Greylock and flicked his monocle out of his eye socket before running over to Baileywick to avoid any repercussions. “Now I’m ready!”

“...sometimes I wonder if I am dating a thirty-eight year old man or an eight year old child,” Baileywick sighed.

“Well one is legal and one is illegal so…” Cedric was cut off by Baileywick giving him his practice sword.

“One fall,” the steward said as he stepped back, choosing a loose stance. “Show me what you’ve learned, Cedric,”

The Royal couple and Greylock watched as steward and sorcerer dueled. Baileywick always moved amazingly fast for a man of his age. Cedric focused on Baileywick’s weak spots, pushing his advantage as best as he could. The pair danced around the sparring area, ducking and parrying blows between each other. The normally awkward and clumsy Cedric kept up with the refined Baileywick, pushing forward as much as he stepped back.

“Seasick actually looks competent,” Greylock said in surprise.

Roland laughed, clapping his hands to encourage Cedric. “He’s doing amazingly!” he said.

Baileywick managed to land a blow at the back of Cedric’s knee. This made the younger man stagger to the side and Baileywick pressed forward, keeping him off balance. He managed to strike his other leg, forcing Cedric down to his knees. He raised his sword for the final swing.

Cedric lunged forward at the last moment, driving the end of his sword into Baileywick’s stomach. “Dead!” he panted, smiling into the other’s surprised face.

He stook a step back, placing a hand where Cedric had struck. He smiled, taking a moment to catch his breath before dropping his sword to help Cedric up. “Well done!” he said.

“That was great, Cedric,” Miranda said as the three walked over to congratulate him. “You must have been training very hard!”

“You managed to beat a man almost thirty years older than you; great job!” Greylock snickered as he avoided a smack from Cedric.

Roland patted the sorcerer on his back, laughing at the way the other blushed at the friendly touch. “You did amazingly, Cedric. Well done!”

He straightened up, puffing out his chest in pride. “Thank you, Sire.”

Baileywick ruffled his hair in fondness. “You’ll be making the painkiller cream for this one,” he reminded him.

He laughed, nodding his head in agreement. He gave Baileywick a kiss on the cheek to make up for it.


End file.
